Fifteen minutes back

She inhaled in the smells of the neighborhood as she walked. They were present every day, welcoming her into reality, a striking contrast to where she lives, a sparsely furnished single bed pad that smelled of nicotine and bath salts. A few restless street hawkers trying hard to sell their goods, the same familiar nameless faces that waited in anticipation for the bus and a few idle travellers of life. Each reeking the aura of a hard-earned existence.

A hand brushed past as she made her way into a narrow passage between two people. A few dozen eyes leered playfully at her gait. A flower vendor smiled charmingly, as he groped the garland. And a balloon seller thought she was mighty interested. She breezed past this every day turmoil quite easily, as she had been through this drill, a thousand times. She was familiar with the brisk pace of the city life, the non-existing forms living up moments if they were lucky enough and also with the feeling on remaining disconnected.

But today was different. Because, from between the dozens of people, emerged a shadow on the wall.While her eyes were still observing the haunting figure carefully, her head spiraled into a series of thoughts " Was she hallucinating? He (she was sure) looked like some one you would encounter in books. Did she display the money that she had  while paying the auto wallah yesterday? She wouldn't know. She wasn't aware of  anything much these days". She paused the thoughts momentarily with an ironic smile. She wasn't one of those people who would go down without a fight. If it is indeed a shady figure, she better face the truth of who he was and what he wanted, then and there.

She turned around and walked briskly towards the figure. She decided to break the rhythm of her steps, as soon as the figure revealed itself. A man nearly in his thirties, dressed to be an executive, sporting the belly weight of a mid-life dweller faced with a crisis. Nothing charming about him, he could be anybody.This fact greatly troubled her.  She walked away briskly from him and reached home in a rush.

Her husband was the same lifeless corpse watching German Cinema. She glanced at his ash-tray to assess how much pot he had smoked. She picked up his guitar and began to sing a song. That was the only way to make him aware of the existence of another person, these days. She deliberately stopped the song and began narrating the shady follower story, as soon as he woke up from something like a slumber.

As soon as she finished narrating the bit about the shady follower, her husband said, with a snigger on his face, " That is because, baby you are beautiful!"

A wave of anger engulfed her. She had been holding on, but couldn't any longer. She lifted the guitar and started thrashing him hard. His constant requests to stop, couldn't hold her back. That she was beautiful was the truth, but she was in no mood for reality now. Her husband should have known that her every day walk ended, fifteen minutes back.

63 to nirvana

She looked at them longingly. No, there wasn't any possibility for her to have them on, all at the same time. When she was young she barely imagined that she would ever boast of such a collection! She took a marvel crafted in crystal into her hand and traced the length of it. She had a fire going in the room which made the edges of the crystal gleam. The reflection of which lit two more fires in her hazel eyes.

She lived alone but some how the company of these possessions never made her feel lonely. Every day, after a long day at work, her spirit was lifted at the sight of these beauties. In fact, she did not view them as possessions. To her, they were friends. There was one for each mood, they knew her really well down to her barest details, they would patiently listen to all that she had to say, she could hurl them at the wall, throw them far far away or choose to denounce their company if and when she pleased. More, importantly she possessed them!

She opened her closet. 63 pairs of shoes tumbled out . She went over them  with the same ardent dedication, trying each of them on every other night. That was how most of her day-ends looked like. When it wasn't the case, it wasn't the story that was different. It was her.

DREAMS INC.

The room smelled of stagnant air, used socks and onions all at the same time. The odour was sufficient to get me all packed and running. I gazed around. A zillion cigarette butts were diffused on the wall behind the bed. Forming a pattern through them were a few tea spills here and there.  " Not a welcoming sight ", I whispered to myself. The room was empty, causing my whispers to echo back.I was relieved that it was at least a silent place that shut out the din and the madness of the city!

A rat scurried across the room. A spin of cobwebs swayed to the breeze. A group of ants leisurely made their way to their hill. A patch on the roof reflected the dampness of the city wind, a bit too much for my comfort. I felt a layer under my feet and looked down. To my horror, the entire floor was covered in a layer of dust that could be, I don’t know days old or months old. Me being me, I checked for blood stains and then dragged my ambling head away when it was still safe. Seriously, where can new-age TV and Dexter get you?

I walked into the kitchen only to find a plethora or maybe a mine of empty beer bottles. I suddenly felt thirsty. I reached for the sipper tucked away in my back pack. The water pacified my form but the soul still could not fly. Resisting the urge to run away from that place, I affixed my feet firmly onto the ground.

 “You have crossed too many levels. You cannot quit the game now”, the little chip in my head echoed.

I folded my jeans and sleeves. Wiping away the beads of sweat that began to gather on my forehead, I began cleaning the place. I wasn’t alone. I had my dreams for company...